JoAnn Michalik

Hi Barbie.

I miss you.

I wish that was enough to accurately describe how I

feel, but it doesn’t, not even close. I don’t just miss you;

I feel so much more than a mere longing. I could create

a galaxy full of life with what I feel for you. I feel; how

crazy is that? I feel everything. My heart hurts so much,

but it also is filled with so much love, especially for you.

I miss your laugh, your lame jokes, your hugs, your singing and dancing. I miss you. I miss you. I miss you. I can’t say it enough. I miss seeing everyone happy. I miss your family, your children. I miss crying about your problems. I miss the closeness we had between us when we were kids. 

I thought the years would at least put a dent in how much I hurt, but it didn’t. It’s been 15 years of your absence, 15 years of missing you, 15 years of “being strong”. It’s been 15 years of trying to forget. It’s been 15 years and I feel everything stronger than ever, and it hurts so much more than this string of words could ever portray. I don’t understand, Barbie. I thought time was supposed to heal; it hasn’t healed anything, only replaced memories and has served as a constant reminder that you’re gone.

Happiness is seldom what I feel when I think of your passing, no matter the smile on my face or laugh in my throat or twinkle in my eyes. You’re all I see and it hardly makes me smile, as I was not with you when you passed, it was so sudden. It’s impossible to be truly happy when my favorite little sister that I adored, actually left and I will never get her back. Every time I think I’m getting better, I remember how I felt that day and am brought right back to reality.

I tried everything to accept that you were gone, or at least forget. I tried going out, having fun. I tried detaching myself from everyone. I wanted to be invisible, transparent, forgotten. I tried not to exist. I tried becoming overly involved in something you loved. I pretended to be happy; I let myself be sad. I tried not caring about anyone or anything for awhile, not taking anything seriously. I tried taking everything seriously, caring too much; but, nothing brought you back, nothing changed what happened, nothing made this okay. You’re still gone.

I think the past 15 years I pretended it never happened and when the day you left approaches, I can't run anymore, I can't hide from the fact that I miss you. I have to face it and trying to be strong for your children, it becomes very difficult but I do my best to make them understand. It gets increasingly harder to be grateful for the time we did have, although it was much too short. I feel like it’s happening all over again and it hurts just as badly, if not worse when I find your pictures or letters.

I still remember the sound of your voice. I can still hear your laugh sometimes– that laugh, your laugh –absolutely perfect for you. You were 40 and way too young – way too young to die.

I’ve always been a optimist and say things as they are, but the weeks after your death were the most painful. I felt like I was holding everyone together and all the tears I choked back were for a good cause. Today I see a different person; I see a heartbroken immature hurt big sister who got through her days with the idea that everything would be fine. I should have been more prepared.

The longer you’ve been gone, the worst my breakdowns get at times when I miss you most. The pain is unbearable, each time hurting in a way it never had before while clean tears stream down my face in pure sadness. I stay that way for what seems like hours but could only have been a minute unable to breathe; crying and crying and then I go fall asleep. 

When I got the news about your passing, I realized I could do nothing to keep you with us.  I failed to protect you this time. I cried out to the earth, moon, and stars with desperation – please stay – the only two words I could find.  The pain I felt was indescribable. All I was thinking was this is a dream, a terrible, terrible dream, but it wasn’t, it was a nightmare that I still haven’t woken up from. I felt like everything was falling away from me into oblivion. I was alone and for the first time knew my world was in fact ending.  The youngest is never supposed to go before the oldest.  

It’s cliché to say after that, nothing was the same but, it’s true. People’s smiles turned to frowns, tears of laughter to tears of sorrow, silence to condolences, and hope to grief.

Grief changed me; or revealed me, either way I didn’t like it. Grief wasn’t just sitting at home crying endlessly and feeling like it wouldn’t stop.  It wasn’t hearing your name and falling apart. No, that would have been nice; grief was all of that and then some. It was zoning out mid-conversation and having to incessantly apologize. Grief was “being strong”, fighting back tears. Grief was smiling and responding with fine at every “how are you?” It was not once meaning it. Grief was getting out of bed every day when every nerve told me to stay, shut the curtains, retreat.

How has 15 years not lessened the sorrow and aching I feel when I think about you? I thought I would hear your name and smile; a loving memory, a gift, but I’m selfish and memories aren’t enough for me. Day to day nothing changes: the grass is still the grass without you. I feel guilty laughing and smiling and having fun with my family. The days would pass and I would have no recognition of what I had done and it was easy that way. I didn’t have to feel. I didn’t have to explain myself or talk to anyone or go out of my comfort zone. It was emotionless, painless, but was no way to live.

I hated that time. I didn’t want anyone’s pity, to be a burden, and the last thing I needed to hear was how strong I was and that everything was going to be okay because I didn’t believe it.

It hurts to think all I have are memories, I’m terrified to my core that I will begin to forget. The smallest moments I cherish the most and I don’t know how to preserve them. I can obsess over it, let it consume me, but I don’t want to be in love with a memory; a time, a place, an instant. Memory is unreliable and memories fade.

All I have are pictures, and a foggy memory. I guess the pictures help me remember your face, full of life and that voice I would recognize anywhere, but I still wish I had more. I don’t want my memory to rely on these things. I try to remember the happy times, I try to forget the pain of your loss. I try to understand and accept and reflect. Through my memories I still feel pain, sometimes relive it, but it’s where the puzzle pieces begin to fit. I quiet the voices in my head and there’s a brief moment of what I imagine is peace, happiness. I want to remember everything, and most importantly I want to treasure and hold on to the memories that are mine.

There was so much more I wanted to say to you. There was so much more I wanted to do. There was so much more I wanted to be. I thought we had more time to grow old together.

I lay awake at night remembering the thought of you and our memories and everything I didn’t get to say and everything we didn’t get to do. I think most days I convince myself you’re on a vacation, an extended one. You’re somewhere warm and remote with no way to contact me and then I remember you’re not on an island in the middle of nowhere, you’re gone. Those are the days that hurt the most.

I have so many questions and so little answers. I am forever reminded that my heart is always with you. Sometimes I don’t feel you here with me, it is such a terrible feeling. 
Losing a little sister forces you to grow up.

God thank you, Barbie, thank you for everything.

You taught me that you never know when the last moment you will see someone will be and to not hold grudges, not to hold back because there isn’t time for that. You taught me to be everything I wanted and get everything I imagined, feel deeply and without regret. You showed me the kind of sister I want to be. Thank you. This was a higher love, a love that will last forever. As much as I want to be with you right now, I know my life will end when it is supposed to, I just hate accepting it.

My heart is different now, and every day is a fight to accept that. This time without you has forced me to test what it is like to be positive and strong and every day I work on it. 

You taught me more about life and loving then I think anyone ever will, you were a gift to me in a life that had very few gifts as a child. For the better and for the worse, nothing changes a person like losing someone you love and struggling to remember the last time you looked into their eyes or told them you loved them. I think there will always be the constant battle, push and pull of being so incredibly grateful and so incredibly hurt.

I sometimes smile at your name; I don’t know if it will ever be okay. All I do know is that my love for you is the only thing I am sure of. I can hear your laugh; see your big bright blue eyes with heaven in them, your kindness and goodness I can feel. You were everything I wasn’t; maybe that’s why we made such great sisters. You showed me everything I was missing, the person I wanted to be, ought to be. 

Forever and ever until we meet again,

The big sister,
Lynn